Witch Queen

by Kim Richardson

  “A real man would fight with his bare hands.”

  Leo’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the growing flames. “There’s no honor in fighting with magic. To dabble in the supernatural is to turn your back on the Creator, and now he turns away from you.”

  I couldn’t help but feel betrayed by Leo’s comments. I was a witch. He knew this. And still he just couldn’t shake the notion that magic was the devil’s work, and that we were all monsters. But Leo couldn’t stop.

  Fawkes’ jaw twitched. “Even after all you’ve seen, you still cling to the teachings of the priests.”

  “Not the priests, but the Creator.”

  Fawkes laughed. “You humans are all the same. You are fools. You believe in lies because it is easier than accepting the truth.”

  “What truth?” I asked.

  And when no one answered, I turned to Will. “What’s he talking about?”

  But Will only shrugged. His hand was still on the hilt of his sword.

  “The truth,” said Fawkes wearily, as he looked at me, “is that humans can never accept that Arcania is magic. And that the ground you step on is magic. Magic crawls beneath this earth and is in the air you breathe. Humans fear it and therefore cannot accept it. You treat magic as evil when it is the most natural thing. Magic is undeniable proof that this is not your world. It never has been.”

  Leo’s face was void of emotion as he laughed. “So where did we come from? We didn’t just sprout out from the ground like weeds.”

  “Humans are weeds. You are what’s wrong in this world.”

  “It is your kind that doesn’t belong here,” spat Lucas.

  I was surprised that he’d spoken. But then I saw the panic in his eyes and the sweat on his face.

  “Arcania is our land. You tried to take it from us. But we won. We pushed you out.”

  Fawkes bared his teeth. “Arcania was never yours to begin with, little human.”

  I frowned at my own apparent ignorance at this piece of significant history, but I wasn’t sure that Fawkes wasn’t making things up just to start a fight either. I remembered that Rose’s history books had maintained that we, the people from Arcania, were originally from here. I didn’t remember any mention that we had come from somewhere else. I didn’t even know that there was a somewhere else from which we could have come. What other lands lie beyond the seas? If what Fawkes had said was true, where did we all come from?

  I glanced at Fawkes and could tell right away that it was his truth. But I needed to find out for myself if it were true that humans had come from another distant land.

  Lucas interrupted my train of thought. “You lying bastard!”

  I jumped to my feet and lunged at Lucas, pushing him back in a fit of temper.

  “Enough! All of you.”

  Lucas’ eyes gleamed with animal fury. For a moment I thought he was going to attack me, but then he grimaced and turned away. I was shocked at his behavior and began to regard him with suspicion.

  I swallowed hard and whirled on them.

  “What is this? A goddamn pissing contest? What the hell is wrong with all of you? This isn’t the time or the place. If we want to succeed in this quest, you need set aside your differences. We need each other. So either make up or shut up.”

  I glared at them, trying not to flinch. A cool breeze spilled through the many gaps in my clothes, and I was only too aware that everyone could see my flesh underneath.

  “I’m a witch, too, or have you forgotten that bit of crucial information? How can you say such hateful things? You’re on a quest commissioned by witches and accompanied by a witch.”

  Leo and Will both stared at the ground ashamed. My other companions avoided my eyes, but the hate on their faces betrayed them.

  I shook my head in disgust.

  “Have you forgotten why we’re here? About Jon? If I hear this kind of talk again—I’ll cut your bloody tongues out and feed them to you.”

  The men stiffened but I didn’t care.

  “So it’s time you make a decision. Leave now, with your magic-fearing ways, or keep your goddamn mouths shut. I don’t have the time or patience for this horseshit.”

  My insides ached, but I stood straighter. “I might not be able to shoot fire out of my ass, but I’m still some kind of witch.”

  A light sparkled in Fawkes’ eyes, and the tiniest of smiles appeared on his face. It gave me the courage to continue.

  “And it won’t matter if you’re a witch, or a human, or a horse, or a goddamn mosquito.” I took a steading breath. “The black blight won’t discriminate. It’ll come. It’ll come and kill us all. Witch or not, there’ll be no escaping it if we don’t stick together and fight together.”

  I stood defiantly as I waited, dreading that the men would choose to leave. But they didn’t. Not one of them.

  The men were quiet after that little outburst. But I wasn’t sorry or ashamed of what I had said. I’d meant every word. If they couldn’t stop their goddamn bickering, I’d cut out their tongues. Or at least I’d force them to return to the Pit.

  After I’d changed into my only other set of clothes, we packed and made ready to head out. I couldn’t help but stare at Fawkes. Not because he was a male witch, but because of what he’d said, and mostly because of what he hadn’t said. There was more to his story than he was letting on, and I was going to find out exactly what it was.

  The male witch’s eyes showed something I did not recognize and could not understand. It was deeper than anger, deeper than fury, even deeper than hate.

  Although I had hated the priests all my life, I’d never known anyone to share that same hatred, until I met Fawkes.

  The only difference was—the male witch hated humans.

  CHAPTER 11

  WE MADE THE REST of the journey in silence once again.

  While I rode my faithful companion, Torak, Fawkes rode a majestic bull elk that was just as big. It was the creature I thought I had seen in my dreams when I first woke up. It had massive antlers that could skewer a grown man, and I could see its corded muscles under its thick coat of tawny-colored fur. The saddle, bridle, and reins were golden leather. He was spectacular.

  But it wasn’t his mere size that startled me; it was his eyes. They were green, just like Fawkes’.

  I’d only seen an elk once before. I was twelve, and it was dead. A group of hunters from the Pit had killed one, and the meat had fed their families for the entire winter. I’d remembered being upset that they had real food while Rose and I had to make do with dried pigeon strips and nuts. I didn’t think I could stomach the meat now. Its eyes showed a keen intelligence, and it was almost as though it had magic.

  Fawkes led us northeast for hours. We traveled through the heart of the hundreds of square miles of dense forests that covered the northeastern part of Romila. He and his beast ploughed through the forest with such easy grace that I assumed he’d travelled through these parts for years and had discovered every possible passage. There were no roads or paths that I could see, and yet he led us over ground that was steady and safe for the horses. He rode confidently, not seeking anyone’s guidance or ever faltering.

  Was he using magic? Was it the elk? There was more to Fawkes than magic fire, and I was anxious to discover what else he could do.

  In spite of our earlier mistrust, we all trailed behind the witch obediently. Occasionally he would bark out an order, and we would change direction like a flock of sheep. I didn’t even mind that the men followed his directions through this wild and unknown territory. They knew we’d be lost without him. After all, he had saved our lives.

  I was impressed. The witch was growing on me.

  I had been disappointed and infuriated that Ada had abandoned me to this quest. It had been her idea in the first place. But after being with Fawkes for a few hours and seeing him in action, I couldn’t help but wonder if Ada had known he’d be the better choice. He carried himself like a veteran warrior, and he looked as if he’d be much more sk
illed at battling supernatural creatures than the old witch. But then again, I’d never witnessed the full extent of Ada’s powers.

  Were all the witches in Witchdom as skilled and as fierce as Fawkes? Why was he on this side of the realm? Was he another outcast? Had he been banned by his own people, like Ada and the others? Why did he hold such animosity for humans if his own people shunned him?

  Fawkes was a puzzle I needed to solve before we reached the witch realm. I couldn’t let my inexperience with witch matters ruin our chances. We were about twenty days away from the borders of Witchdom, and I would make them count.

  The air was crisp and cool, and I was glad that my wool cloak hadn’t been damaged by the revenants. Hemlocks, oaks, and pine trees formed a canopy of green that spread over our heads and shielded us from the enemy. It also hid the sun. We were once again in the shadows, and I hated it.

  A world without sun or greenery awaited us if we couldn’t defeat the priests.

  A murder of crows cawed at us angrily from a tall oak tree that had begun to lose its leaves. Torak’s ears twitched at their harsh calls. Most people in the Pit despised crows and called them witch birds or witch spies. They thought witches could see through their eyes. They avoided them and said it was a bad omen to see a crow. And yet, I was always rather fond of them. I liked their cunning and intelligence. Whether they were magic birds, witch spies, or not, they stuck together, unlike our divided company. I admired that bond.

  The black blight had not yet reached these parts of Romila, and knowing what lay in store made the woods here seem too fine and smell too glorious. It was crawling with squirrels, field mice, crows, robins, and jays, and I knew I would have to take what comfort I could from that. Soon they would all be dead.

  After a few hours of riding, things quickly went back to normal. It had become quiet and boring, and the men ignored me completely.

  I recalled what Leo had said about witches a few hours ago. I had thought that he and Will were my only real friends. Now I wasn’t so sure anymore.

  I was surrounded by people, and at the same time I’d never felt so alone. They had shut me out, and I felt more isolated than when I was under the trap door back in Rose’s shabby cottage.

  Leo chose to ride behind me because it meant that he wouldn’t have to look me in the face. None of them did. I trailed behind Fawkes, with only Torak to keep me company.

  I felt more discouraged now than I had at the beginning. We had already lost two from our small company, and Lucas had wanted to kill me. I couldn’t help but feel that he might have tried if Fawkes hadn’t been there, and the men hadn’t been so terrified of his fire. Did the others feel that way too? Did Leo, Will, and Nugar want to end my life?

  In spite of the warmth of my cloak, a nasty shiver went down my spine. I felt my own people from the Pit had discarded me. We had all grown up together, and I had believed we were like an extended family.

  But I wasn’t like them. I was a witch now, and I had to start thinking like one.

  I didn’t even know anything about Fawkes, not really. Apart from his rapid temper and his magic fire, I didn’t know him any more than I knew the men from the Pit. They were all strangers to me. I had to put all my faith and trust in the Goddess and Ada, and I had to hope that Fawkes wasn’t leading us into a trap.

  The familiar rocking motion of Torak was the only thing that brought me any comfort.

  Could I really do this? Was I really strong enough? Was I even a real steel maiden? What if Ada and the others were wrong? What if I was more human than witch, and I couldn’t fulfill whatever they expected of me, and this quest was all for nothing?

  I’d never be ready to enter Witchdom, or to confront the necromancer priests, or to live in a world without Jon.

  We moved through tall ferns and other lime-green foliage I’d never seen before. The thicket had deepened as the land sloped downhill, and I didn’t know where we were anymore. I only knew that we were far from any of the main roads.

  I fixed my eyes on Fawkes’ long, luscious green hair. While it was such an unusual color, here, in the woodlands, it was the most natural thing. It blended in beautifully with the pine needles and tall ferns, like they were part of each other. I watched him curiously as we rode. He never once turned around to see if we were still following him. Perhaps he didn’t care.

  After we’d been riding for hours, the trees thinned, and we came to a meadow with tall golden grasses and a sparkling stream. The sun was a flaming orange disk sinking below the mountains to the west. It would be dark soon.

  Leo came up on my right side, his red hair blazing in the last rays of the sun. I felt his eyes on me, but I didn’t look at him. I knew he wanted to speak to me, but I wasn’t in the mood to speak to him. I hadn’t forgiven him for what he’d said. Not yet.

  Fawkes dismounted and led his bull elk to the stream. I slowed Torak to a stop and slipped off his back. I made a clumsy hop to the ground on wobbly legs and stumbled around until I regained my footing. I was glad to be on solid ground for a while.

  I led Torak to the stream. The men dismounted around me, and I ignored them. But I smiled as the big horse walked right into the water and soaked himself. He drank, and with a whip of his tail, he sent a shower of water on my face.

  “Thanks,” I laughed playfully. The smile on my face felt strange, tight, and out of place, as though I had never smiled before.

  I knelt next to the stream. I reeked of sweat and grime and blood. But there was no privacy here for a real bath, and I sighed and soaked my hands in the stream. The water was ice-cold and stung my skin like tiny needles, but I resisted the urge to pull them out. I was determined to rid myself of the sticky remnants the dead had left on me, and I scrubbed water on my face, neck, and collarbone. I reached under my armpits and scrubbed my arms. It wasn’t so bad, and although I shivered and my skin was icy, at least it was cleaner.

  I didn’t care that the men were probably staring at me. The water had washed away some of the grime, and strangely enough, some of the pain I’d been carrying.

  Fawkes was watching me. He sat crossed legged in front of a small roaring fire. He lifted an eyebrow at me, and I realized it was an invitation to sit with him and get warm. The others had made camp some distance away, and their horses grazed next to the stream. Nugar was attempting to light their fire unsuccessfully. It would have been simpler to have asked Fawkes for help, but of course they wouldn’t.

  Torak settled with the other horses, and surprisingly the elk joined them. I made my way over to Fawkes and settled next to the fire, facing him. I knew how this must have looked to the others. I had chosen the witch over them, but they had made their choice and had shut me out. To hell with them. Although I hoped they cared where I sat, I realized they probably didn’t.

  I did my best to look natural, but Fawkes’ green eyes seemed able to read my most intimate thoughts. I shivered, both from the cold and from the anxiety of being alone with Fawkes. The warmth of the fire felt good, but it’d take a good long while before my clothes were dry, and I truly felt warm again.

  “That water was freezing cold,” Fawkes searched my face, but I didn’t look away. “You’re shivering. You must be very cold. A steel maiden’s magic can heal the deadliest wounds, you know, and keep you from ever being sick, but it will not provide you with warmth.”

  I was a little annoyed that my own magic couldn’t help me with the cold. Being a witch wasn’t as exciting as I had first thought. I reached out and held my hands near the fire. My fingers were stiff with cold, and I continued to shake despite the warmth of the flames.

  “I know,” I said.

  A trickle of water slid down my temple. “But thanks to your fire I’m getting warmer already.”

  He stared at me for a moment.

  “The nights are going to get a lot colder now that we’re traveling more to the east.”

  The yellow and orange flames reflected in his eyes. “You know…I could help you with that.”

/>   “With what?” I said. My teeth chattered, and I wondered if I’d made a mistake by washing in the icy stream.

  “I could help you get warmer…help you become completely dry if you wish.”

  My eyes widened. “You mean with magic?”

  My heart skipped a beat. I was both frightened and excited…but mostly frightened. “You want to use magic on me?”

  Fawkes took my hesitation as a definite no.

  His face hardened as if I’d insulted him. “Fine, stay wet and cold and foolish like a human. You’ve been surrounded by humans for too long, and now you’re becoming like them. Even you are afraid.”

  I scowled at his fast temper.

  “I’m not,” I said, glad that my voice didn’t waver. I lifted my chin and placed my hands on my lap. “Fine. Do it.”

  I clenched my jaw and waited. But I didn’t have long to wait.

  Fawkes smiled, and it made him look younger. When he raised his hands, yellow and orange flames sprouted from his fingers and raced along his palms.

  And then the fire shot from his hands and hit me square in the chest.

  CHAPTER 12

  I HEARD SHOUTS OF alarm, and for a horrifying second I thought he was about to burn me alive. I felt the hot flames lick my face and skin. It rolled over all my limbs and even covered my scalp. I was frightened.

  But then I didn’t burn. I didn’t feel pain. It was like a hot blanket had been wrapped around me. The touch of the fire was like silk on my skin. I expected the acrid smell of burned flesh and hair, but instead Fawkes’ fire was the sweet smell of wheat, pinecones, daffodils, and lilies. It smelled like rain. My hair and clothes flapped around me in some invisible breeze. I laughed out loud at this strange but soothing magic fire. After a few seconds, the flames winked out.

  When the flames had disappeared I felt as though I’d been soaking in a glorious hot tub for hours. I was deliciously warm, and my clothes were dry. I smiled and felt much more confident about Fawkes when I saw that he was smiling, too. I realized that the scent I’d smelled was magic. It wasn’t the choking, sulfur smell of black magic, but the sweet scent of earth magic—Fawkes’ magic.